Beating the Odds
by keru.m
Summary: Follow up to last year's holiday story, 'Fighting the Odds', set one year later.


Disclaimer: Don't own'em

A/N: I wrote a Christmas story last year, 'Fighting the Odds'. This story is a follow-up to that one, set a year later.

--

**Beating the Odds**

Harm pulled the baking tray out of the oven, and set the last of the cookies sheets on cooling racks. He checked the clock on the oven. He had fifteen minutes before he had to head out to pick up Mac from work. He smiled as he headed to the bedroom to change. It had taken a hell of a lot of ingenuity to orchestrate his big surprise for Mac, and all without her getting wind of it. He was rather proud of himself for pulling it off.

He'd taken the day off of work today just to get everything in order for her. He'd even managed to convince her that he'd drive her to the office in the morning and pick her up when she was done. She didn't know it, but he planned on taking her to a Christmas tree farm in Maryland, where she'd pick out the tree of her choice, and he'd cut it down for her. He chuckled to himself; knowing Mac, she'd probably get an even bigger kick of it if she got to wield a power saw and chop the tree herself. And yell 'timber'.

Harm quickly changed into a warmer set of clothes for the trip and checked the kitchen to make sure he'd turned the oven off. He actually felt giddy. He couldn't wait to see the look on her face. A fresh Christmas tree, and then the biggest surprise: a freshly baked gingerbread house for them to assemble and decorate together. She would be completely blown away. He hadn't been this excited about Christmas in years.

Satisfied that the kitchen was in order, Harm grabbed his keys and a duffel bag filled with a warm set of clothes for Mac to wear. He left the apartment and headed to the SUV, humming a carol as he went.

It was way past time for both of them to replace bad memories with good ones.

--

It was nearing dusk, and a gentle flurry of snowflakes was falling from the sky. Acres of Norway spruce and Douglas firs stretched out as far as the eye could see, their branches coated with snow that sparkled like diamonds in the soft sunlight.

Mac stood next to Harm looking down at the vista of Christmas trees and snow banks. She couldn't quite believe he'd set up such an incredible surprise for her. She couldn't believe that he'd remembered what she'd mentioned to him a year ago.

She studied Harm as he surveyed the scene, a power saw slung over his shoulder. She could see his breath hang in the cold winter air before dissipating. His cheeks were red from the cold and his eyes bright. This was all so ... magical. He had a way of doing that for her, she thought, and then smiled at her fanciful thoughts. She really was getting caught up in all the holiday stuff.

He must have felt her stare, because he turned his head slightly to catch her eye.

"What?" He was smiling that boyish half-grin of his. It made her heart thump in her chest, and brought a responding grin to her own lips.

She took his free hand in hers. She couldn't stop smiling. This was a day of wonders and miracles. A time of year that she normally let slip her by, yet this year she couldn't help but be drawn into the marvel, the infectious joy of the holiday season. And in this one moment, standing next to him with her toes and fingers slowly going numb from the cold, she was just uncomplicatedly happy. "Thank you." She said simply.

He shrugged, as though his driving her to the boondocks of Maryland just so she could pick out a tree was no big deal. But his eyes gave him away, and she could see how pleased he was by her response.

She was still awed, continuously amazed by how well they fit together, by how far they'd come since she'd battled her doubts and taken the chance to knock on his door, only to find that he'd been waiting with one hand on the doorknob the entire time.

"How do you know so much about Christmas trees?" She tugged on his hand, stepping closer to his warmth.

"My grandmother does live on a farm." He raised an eyebrow as he said this, looking down at her.

She wasn't buying it. She'd mastered the art of reading his body language, and right now he was acting self-conscious as he usually did when she pointed out some sweet gesture he'd done for her.

She grinned, thoroughly endeared. He denied he was romantic, while she took great pleasure in teasing him that he was the most romantic man she'd ever encountered. The praise invariably made him blush.

"So she took you out to cut fresh trees every year when you were a kid?" She mirrored his expression, eyebrow arched, and tried to keep her lip from doing that upturn thing he insisted still always gave her away.

He looked away for a moment, letting his eyes run over the scene before them. His expression was still slightly self-conscious. He cleared his throat. "Well, no. I actually, uh, did a bit of research on fresh trees this year." He lifted one shoulder in an easy shrug. "I've never given Christmas much of a chance since I was a kid."

He brought his gaze back to hers, his grip on her hand tightening. He smiled, a weight visibly falling from his shoulders. "Or, I should say: I never used to give Christmas much of a chance. I'm turning a new leaf."

"Why?" She was curious. Honestly, she'd thought that once she gave him his Christmas gift, he would perhaps change his views on Christmas. Apparently, he'd already done so. She wondered what the catalyst was.

A grin slowly took form on his face, until he was gracing her with his full-wattage smile.

"Well, MacKenzie, a year ago, you came knocking on my door."

She decided this was the best Christmas gift she'd ever been given.

--

They lugged the tree down the hallway, towards the apartment. She'd never seen Harm this easygoing and merry around Christmastime. It was definitely contagious. She felt like a kid again.

The best part had been when Harm had handed her the power saw to cut down the tree she'd chosen, and then she'd yelled 'timber' as the fir fell to the ground in a cloud of sparkling snow and laughter. It had been just like when she'd gone tree hunting with Uncle Matt, although he had an axe and had categorically refused her even one swing. She grinned at the memory. She'd cajoled Uncle Matt until she was blue in the face, and he still hadn't budged.

"Do you have your keys, Mac?" Harm pulled her from her thoughts.

"Yep. Just a sec." She fished her keys out of her pocket. "Someone's baking. It smells amazing out here." She commented as she unlocked the door.

She swung the door open, and to her surprise the smell of baking was even stronger inside their apartment. Ginger and cinnamon and spice. And everything nice, she thought absently.

She turned to Harm, frowning in question. He had been busy today.

His only answer was a wide, giddy grin. "I have a surprise for you. In the kitchen."

She searched his face for any clues, but all she could see was his excitement and perhaps a small hint of worry. Her curiosity deepened; she headed to the kitchen for a look.

On the counter, laid out neatly on cooling racks, where sheets of gingerbread, shaped like the walls and roof and chimney of a house.

Mac's jaw dropped, and she brought her hands to her face in surprise. He remembered this childhood Christmas wish, too. She blinked, trying to fight the tears that welled.

She felt him come up behind her, hesitant and unsure, and lay a hand on her arm. "I wanted to make up for all the bad ones..."

She turned around, and buried her face in his shoulder, holding him tightly, too overwhelmed to form a coherent response. Instead of trying to say anything, she tried to imprint this moment in her memory. No one had done anything like this for her, cared enough to remember the silly things she'd wished for as a girl and tried to make them come true.

"Thank you." She whispered into the warm fleece of his sweater. "I love you."

"I love you, too." He wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her hair.

After long moments of just enjoying the way he surrounded her, she tipped her head back to look at him. "We're going to decorate a gingerbread house." She laughed, excitement hitting her full force. She couldn't wait!

He nodded with a smile a mile wide. "Exactly how you want it. We have gummy bears and chocolate squares, candy canes and M&Ms. I even bought truffles and waffle cookies."

"Smarties?" She bit her lip as she looked up at him.

His face fell. "Damn it. I forgot the Smarties."

She laughed at his expression, and then kissed away his frown. "That's okay. What we have is perfect."

"I can go out and get some." He offered.

She shook her head. She really couldn't stop smiling. "It's perfect," She repeated. "I can't wait to put truffles on the house!" She hadn't even thought of that possibility. A truffle snowman in the front yard of their gingerbread house. It was perfect.

He laughed, giving her a quick squeeze. "If you're sure."

"I am." She nodded, and kissed him again.

"Go change, Mac, while I set up the tree."

She nodded, giving him one last kiss before heading to the bedroom.

--

Harm cocked his head to the side as he examined the tree standing in front of him.

"Does it look straight to you?" He asked when he felt Mac come up behind him.

"Perfect." She replied.

He got the impression that the tree could have been at a 45 degree angle and she'd still think it was perfect. As it was, she'd spent an hour and a half picking out the tree, examining each contender with meticulous care, dismissing them in turn as too short or too tall or too thin or too stout. The proprietor of the farm had even sent his son out to find them, to remind them that it was technically past closing time. Not to mention dark as death. God knows how she was even able to see anything out there. He was relieved they hadn't lost any limbs when she'd wielded that power saw with such gusto and low visibility.

He hoped she'd be okay when it came time to throw out the tree after Christmas. He hadn't thought that far ahead. Maybe they could hold on to it until Easter.

"If you say it's perfect, then it's perfect." He said, and pulled her in for a quick kiss. "Ready to put together your gingerbread house? We can decorate the tree while the house sets, and then we can decorate the gingerbread house later tonight."

She looked up at him, considering the question. He got the distinct impression there was something she wanted to say.

"What?" He asked, slightly worried. She'd been so keen on putting together the gingerbread house.

"When do we open our gifts?" She asked.

Now, he was confused. "Gifts?"

She nodded.

"Mac, it's the 10th of December."

"I know. But there's one gift I really want you to have." She was practically glowing as she said this.

"I can wait until Christmas day." He couldn't think of anything, no matter the thought she put into it, that he couldn't wait two weeks to open.

"But I can't." She was wheedling, which she rarely did with him. Of course, he was unable to refuse her.

He laughed, though admittedly still perplexed. "Okay. How about after we finish decorating the apartment and the gingerbread house, I open one gift and you open one."

"I can wait until Christmas for mine." She declared. "I only want you to open one."

"It's only fair if we each open one." He pointed out, wondering if maybe he should resign himself to the fact that he'd spend the greater part of his life being confused by her. He'd thought marrying Mac would make her more understandable, but apparently wedding rings and vows did not come with a cipher.

"Only if you open yours first," She said in a firm tone that he knew better than to argue with when it came to things domestic.

"Alright," He relented, amused by her insistence. She really had caught the Christmas bug. "I'll open mine first." He sealed the deal with a kiss. "Now can we put together the gingerbread house?"

Her smile put the North Star to shame. "Yes, please."

--

Mac piped icing sugar on the top edges of the walls, and then waited as Harm held the roof pieces in place.

"Here," He said, indicating one of the sheets of gingerbread, his face a mask of intense concentration. "You hold this one in place."

She put her hands where he indicated. It was incredibly tempting to take a giant bite out of the roof, just to see the look of shock on Harm's face. She grinned at the thought, but refrained from carrying it out.

"Now we hold them in place for a few minutes." He gave her a quick glance before turning his attention back to the house. He was really enjoying himself. Maybe he was feeling like a kid again, too. "Then we let it set for a couple of hours while we decorate the tree."

She nodded. Who knew putting together a gingerbread house was such an involved process. But it was fun. And exciting. She grinned as she remembered her tree – their tree – waiting to be wrapped in garlands and embellished with ornaments. She couldn't wait. Harm said he'd even bought stockings and decorations for the fireplace.

She'd already noticed the mistletoe he'd hung just about everywhere. In fact, he'd very helpfully pointed out the locations of all eight sprigs. It was a lot of mistletoe for one apartment, not that she was complaining.

"There." Harm said. "That should do it." He looked at her, and she could feel the barely suppressed energy radiating from him. "Let's dress up your naked tree."

She laughed, and moved over to his side of the counter where he sat on a stool. She stood between his legs, finally able to do what she'd wanted to do since he'd started mixing the icing sugar. She dipped her finger in the bowl, scooped up a dollop of icing sugar, and put it on the corner of his mouth.

She smiled when he raised his eyebrow in anticipation, and then slowly kissed the sugar off. "You're very sweet," She told him when she was done, grinning. That was fun.

He laughed, and pulled her to him for a deep kiss. "You don't need the sugar to taste sweet." He whispered against her lips.

She gave him a tight hug. If that wasn't romantic, then she didn't know what was. She sighed happily. "Let's decorate."

"Let's." He agreed.

--

Harm watched as Mac tried to pile three truffles on top of each other in the front yard of their gingerbread house. She was using icing to hold them together. In his humble opinion, that thing she was constructing – whatever it was – was an eyesore.

"What is that supposed to be?" He asked.

"A truffle snowman." She said this as though it was obvious, most of her attention concentrated on carefully setting the third truffle in place.

"A truffle what?"

"Snowman, Harm, a truffle snowman." She waved her hand as if to quiet him from distracting her. "Use your imagination."

"That so-called snowman needs more than my imagination, Mac. It's brown. Snowmen aren't brown." He waited for a comeback, but she simply ignored him.

She stood up with a satisfied nod to admire her abomination. Her eyes then drifted to the fence he'd installed around the house.

"My snowman's better than that fence thing you put up."

"Hey." He protested. "I'll have you know this fence is state of the art." It had taken him ten minutes and a lot of icing sugar to have the fence sit just right.

"It's more like Fort Knox with those waffle cookies. Candy canes would at least make our house seem less like a fortress." She reached out to adjust the fence, but he caught her hand just in time.

"I'm doing it for the good of our neighbours." He pulled her close to him, and kissed her hand to distract her from marring his perfect fence. "One look at that ugly truffle snow-thing and they'd all want to move away."

She cocked her head to the side, her expression telling him just how funny she didn't find his humour. "Why don't you ice the roof so that I can put on the shingles."

"Shingles?" He looked at the bowls of candy decorations. She was really getting into this.

"Gummy bears and chocolate squares." Her tone dared him to argue with her about the roofing.

"Sounds perfect," He replied judiciously, grinning at the challenge brewing in her eyes. He loved this side of her; it made for a lot of fun.

"Maybe you could add some gummy bears to the fence, hold them in place with icing." She suggested.

He glanced at the fence. "It'll fall over with the weight."

"Your 'state of the art' fence is that structurally weak?" She threw down the gauntlet.

He looked down at her, eyebrow raised, and picked up the pastry bag filled with icing. "Fine, hand me the gummy bears." He accepted her challenge. For good measure, he piped some icing onto her nose.

"Harm!" She giggled, and wiped the icing away with her fingers. The expression on her face made him laugh. However, his laughter died when she rubbed the icing from her fingers onto his cheek. He grabbed her hand before she could do too much damage, and sucked the icing from each of her fingers. Their gazes remained locked for a long time after he'd licked her fingers clean.

"Are you going to kiss it away?" He whispered, referring to his icing-covered cheek.

"Have you been a good boy this year?" Her eyes sparkled with her smile.

"Very, very good." He nodded solemnly.

"Then how can I refuse?" She leaned in to clean up the icing with her lips and tongue. He slipped his hands around her waist, holding her close. He rested his chin on her shoulder once she was done, not yet ready to let go.

"I can change the fence, put up candy canes instead." He offered.

He felt her smile against his hair. "It's perfect this way."

He grinned at her response, wondering if she'd allow them to actually eat the gingerbread house once they were done.

--

"There." She added the last chocolate square shingle to the roof. "I think we're done."

They both stood back to admire the gingerbread house.

"It's beautiful." She said, her voice light and musical.

He thought 'beautiful' was a pretty strong word to describe a gingerbread house, cobbled together with icing and covered in confectionary. But he agreed anyways. "It is."

"Thank you." She rested her head on his shoulder, and he smiled.

"As long as you're happy, Mac," He wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"I am." She leaned closer into his side, and turned her head to kiss his chin. "It's even better than what I'd pictured."

"Good." He looked down at the contentment on her face. They'd come so far from where they had been a year ago. He felt like a different person, happier, confident in who he was, where his life was going. Nothing like the miserable, unsure, frustrated wreck he'd been this time last year.

"Harm?" Her soft voice broke him from thoughts. He kissed her hair, thankful for her presence in his life, forever grateful that she'd realized she could always come to him to talk.

"Yeah, Mac?"

"I was thinking, we could take the gingerbread house with us to Bud and Harriet's this weekend. AJ and Jimmy would love it."

This surprised him, though he knew it shouldn't.

"You won't mind parting with it?" He asked just to make sure.

She wrapped her arms around his waist. "The fun is in sharing."

He placed another kiss in her hair. "They'll definitely love it." He grinned as the eyesore in the front yard caught his attention. "Even with that ugly snowman in the yard."

She punched him lightly in the side. "Hey, watch it. I named that snowman in your honour."

"In my honour?" He chuckled. Figures she'd name that horrendous thing after him. "What's his name?"

"Pappy."

--

He'd insisted on making hot chocolate and stocking up on sugar cookies. Never too early, he'd said grandly, to start an annual tradition. So she led Harm into the living room, a tray of cookies in her hands while he held the steaming mugs of hot chocolate.

"Okay. Sit." She told him as she set down the tray. "I'll bring your gift." She was already halfway to their bedroom when she added this.

"It's not under the tree?" He called after her.

"I just bought it today," She replied, pulling the wrapped box out of her briefcase. Her hands were shaking and her heart was racing. She bit her lip to keep her smile from giving her away, and headed back to the living room, gift in hand.

"You bought it today? When?" He asked.

"After my doctor's appointment." She sat down next to him on the couch, and set the gift on his lap. She then wiped her hands on her jeans. She was most definitely nervous. Excited. More excited than nervous.

"Doctor's appointment!" He exclaimed, upset and concerned in equal measure. "What's wrong? Are you feeling alright? Mac, you shouldn't have been traipsing around the tree farm for two hours if you aren't well!" He berated her.

"Harm, wait. It's nothing like that." She soothed. "I've been feeling a little queasy in the mornings, and you know that virus has been floating around HQ, so I went to the doctor's yesterday to get checked out—"

"Yesterday! Why didn't you tell me?" He insisted.

"It was nothing serious, and I didn't want you to worry." She said, rubbing her hand back and forth on his arm. She hadn't expected this reaction. "Just a check-up, and the doctor took some blood to get tested. I went in today for the results."

"Blood! Nothing serious!" He scoffed, and then added in a rather patronizing tone, "I tell you when I have a dentist's appointment."

She suddenly realized he was teasing her, repeating the words she'd used after he'd had his eye surgery without telling her years ago. She smacked his shoulder. "Hey! Not funny. I was in the right back then."

He didn't say anything, just grinned smugly. She rolled her eyes; he could still be infuriating.

"Let me know when you're ready to hear the rest of it," She said patiently.

He actually waited a few seconds before relenting. "Alright, alright. Now I'm ready."

She shook her head at him; he could be such a kid sometimes. "Okay. So, after my doctor's appointment, I saw this in a bookstore and thought it would be perfect."

"A bookstore?" He said, dubiously eyeing the gaily wrapped package in his hands.

"Yes. A bookstore." She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, and wished he'd just open the gift. He must've noticed her excessive anticipation, because he brought his hand to rest on her neck.

"Hey," He said, his eyes soft with concern. "I'm sure I'll love it."

"I know you will," She said. "I just..." She trailed off, not knowing how to explain it without giving the gift away.

He trailed his hand along her collarbone.

"Your heart is racing." He whispered. "I can feel it."

"Nerves, I guess." She tried to laugh away the inexplicable anxiety.

"Why are you nervous?" He frowned, his worry surfacing. She sometimes thought it was a natural state of being for him, worrying about her. "I can open it later, Mac, if you don't want me to open it now—"

"No." She put her hand on his arm. She'd burst if he didn't open it immediately "You need to open that gift before I explode."

"Okay," He said warily. He unsealed the scotch tape from the side of the package, and lifted the folded edges of the wrapping paper.

Good lord, she thought. Did he have to be so meticulous about this. She bit her cheek and counted the seconds in her head, just to keep from wrenching the package out of his hands and ripping the paper off.

He slid the book out from its confines, and she watched his face as he tried to figure out what he was looking at.

He read out the title of the book, still confused if the expression on his face was anything to go by. "The Expectant Father: Tips and Advice for Dads-to-Be."

"Merry Christmas, Harm."

His look of confusion suddenly melted into one of shock. His eyes widened, and he looked from the book to her face, then back and forth.

"What?" He whispered. "You ... We ... I'm ..."

"We're pregnant." She told him, her grin uncontrollable.

"W-we ... we're pr—... We..." He was stuttering, something she didn't think she'd ever seen him do before.

Suddenly, his arms engulfed her in a giant embrace, pulling her onto his lap, his face in her hair. "Mac. I ... We .. I c— We ..."

"Breathe for me, Harm." She ran her fingers through his hair, chuckling at his lack of coherence.

She felt his chest rise and fall with a deep breath.

"I ... can't ... I can't believe this." He was at a loss for words. He pulled back to look at her.

"The doctor confirmed it today..." The full weight of what she was saying suddenly hit her. She'd been too shocked at the doctor's for the news to really sink in, and then she'd been too excited at the prospect of telling Harm for the news to sink in. Now, though, seeing his debilitating shock fade, and a slow smile grow on Harm's face, the news was suddenly sinking in. She was surprised she'd been able to wait so long before telling him – it really mustn't have sunk in...

They were pregnant. She and Harm were having a baby. Together. They hadn't expected this, hadn't really been aiming for it; were focused on first settling into marriage before broaching the topic of kids, of how to go about conceiving.

They were having a baby. A baby. Harm and she were going to be parents. She'd been given this miraculous chance to collaborate with God. The gift of a life growing inside her, born of love; her love for Harm and his love for her. She felt silent tears trailing down her cheeks, tears that were mirrored by those on Harm's face. She reached up to wipe them away, her fingers tracing his features.

One of his hands caught hers, and the other settled on her still-flat stomach.

"A baby." He whispered, awed. He looked up at her, eyes still filled with tears. "Mac. Sarah..." He trailed off.

She could only nod, suddenly unable to speak, smiling through the tears that refused to stem.

He settled his forehead against hers, his hand still caressing her belly. "Your looks, my brains."

She laughed, happiness and tears making her voice shake. "Maybe your looks, my brains."

"Perfect." He whispered, awed. He pulled her into his arms. "I love you, Sarah."

"I love you." She drew back to look at him, a teasing glint in her eye. "We love you, dad."

He lit up at her words, but his expression quickly turned serious. "What do we do? I mean, is there something I need to do? Is it in the book?" He reached a hand down to pick up the book which had fallen to the floor.

She smiled at his eagerness. "We have a doctor's appointment booked for Tuesday. We'll know more then. The doctor will walk us through it, tell us what to expect given my age and the endometriosis."

"Should we worry?"

She patted his chest in a placating gesture; she didn't think he needed any encouragement in that department.

"No, we shouldn't. Not yet. The doctor said not to." She said firmly. She placed her hand over his, where it rested on her tummy. "Harm, please don't. Last year, I was told I only had 4 percent chance of conceiving. This is..."

"A miracle."

"That's what Dr. Chen said." She told him. "Four percent wasn't much..."

"It's a lot," He kissed her.

She grinned at him, "Harm, promise me you won't worry yourself. Let's wait until the doctor's appointment."

"I can't promise that, Mac." He protested.

"Harm." She warned.

"Mac." He redoubled his protest. "You're being unreasonable."

They stared at each other, neither budging. They had reached an impasse.

"Look, let's enjoy tonight. No worrying." She finally said. "Tomorrow you can read the book, and then decide if you want to worry yourself sick without knowing if there is any reason to."

It took him a moment to consider this.

"Fine," He finally agreed, though very grudgingly.

"Promise me."

He huffed. "Fine. I promise."

She gave him a smacking kiss on his lips. "Thank you."

"Let me know when the appointment is," He told her. "I'll make sure to get time off."

"Will do."

"And we have to stop by the store tomorrow."

"What for?" She frowned.

"We have to get a Christmas stocking for Junior," He declared. "It's our kid's first Christmas, Mac. Everyone gets a stocking."

She laughed at his enthusiasm, relieved that he was being reasonable – at least until tomorrow. She wound her arms behind his neck. "Okay. We'll hit the store tomorrow."

"Good." He leaned back, stretching himself along the length of the couch. He shifted her so that she was straddling him. One of his hands came to rest on her thigh, and the other on her stomach.

"I can't believe it." He said, grinning up at her, his large hand resumed caressing her stomach. "This is amazing. You're amazing. I love you."

"Me neither. It is." She was sure her smile was as punch-drunk happy as his, "So are you. And me, too." She leaned down and gave him a kiss before settling comfortably with her head nestled in the crook of his neck. She watched the lights blink on their Christmas tree, ornaments dangling and shining in the light. Their place smelled like warm gingerbread, a fire was roaring in the hearth, and two stockings – soon to be three – were hanging over the fireplace.

Two incredible Christmases in a row. Life had never been so good to her.

"Thank you, Harm. For the tree, the gingerbread house" She rubbed her hand over his chest, remembering how deep she'd had to dig to find her courage to come see him last year, how hard they'd worked to build a home together, a life with each other. "Thank you for listening when I came to you. For waiting. For keeping your promises." She turned her face slightly, and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "All of them."

"No, Mac. Thank you for coming to me." He rubbed his hands up and down her back in long, smooth strokes. "And I still think you deserve everything the world has to offer, Sarah." He repeated his words from last year.

She pulled herself up along his body, until she was on top of him. She brushed her nose against his. "I love you." She trailed kisses from his cheek to his jaw.

"Wait, Mac." He whispered, though he didn't stop nuzzling into her neck.

"What?" She mumbled, busy unbuttoning his shirt.

"You have to open one gift, too."

She pulled back, eyebrow arched as she continued unbuttoning his shirt. "That's exactly what I'm doing, Harm."

He laughed, his eyes dancing in the firelight. "In that case: Merry Christmas, Sarah."

"Merry Christmas, Harm."


End file.
